


no promises

by deerhart



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Gen, chapter 12 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerhart/pseuds/deerhart
Summary: “Are you alright?” She asked, and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. It was the same gesture she’d watched Hilda do a hundred times, and to her mild surprise Seteth did not draw back from the contact.





	1. Chapter 1

The Imperial Army would reach the monastery in three days. Upon the second hour of lying awake in her bed, Byleth decided to give up on sleep for the night and dressed in the dark. The moon was waxing; its light was more than enough to see by as she walked through the courtyard. Inside, she met only a few guards, who nodded to her as she went on her way. She intended to retrieve the rough plans she and Seteth had devised for their troop positions, in order to copy them into something more legible before they began briefing tomorrow. When she approached his office door she found it open slightly, the inside lit by guttering candles. Seteth sat at his desk, face partially obscured by the hand that propped up his head. The sight made her reluctant to enter, but her movement in the doorway seemed to catch his eye.

“Professor,” He said with soft surprise, straightening in his chair, “I didn’t expect to have any visitors so late, but please, come in.”

She complied, shutting the door softly behind her and hovering near one of the chairs opposite his desk. He’d been writing something. When he saw her looking at it, he laid his quill down over the words. She averted her eyes. 

“I only came for the draft of our plans,” Byleth told him, looking around the stacks of papers and books that had taken over his usually tidy office, “Since I couldn’t seem to fall asleep I thought I’d make some cleaner copies for our meeting tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Seteth stood and she followed him to the bookshelf to his left, where he rifled through a few of the more organized stacks of papers to retrieve the ones she’d been looking for, “I would tell you to get your rest while you can, but I am afraid my advice would be somewhat hypocritical at the moment.” He offered the papers and a ghost of a tired smile to her. She took the papers and then hesitated, tracing the tired lines under his eyes. 

“Are you alright?” She asked, and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. It was the same gesture she’d watched Hilda do a hundred times, and to her mild surprise Seteth did not draw back from the contact.

“Just fine, considering the circumstances,” He laid a hand over her own, “It is always the waiting which is the hardest. We’ve made our plans, evacuated the civilians, and now we must wait.” 

“It is difficult to be idle,” Byleth agreed, although she felt suddenly loath to leave for the library as she had originally intended. The soft light and weary look in Seteth’s eyes made him look vulnerable. “I’ve fought many battles, but I’ve never had to defend my home.”

“It is never an easy thing to have to do,” Seteth’s voice was soft and distant, he looked to his window for a few moments before turning back. He drew back his hand and unconsciously she did the same, “But there are few better causes to fight, I think.” Byleth did not have to ask him what he meant; there were not many things Seteth so highly valued. “In any event, I am glad to have had you here working to defend the monastery. With you, the Sword of the Creator, and the goddess on our sides, who knows? Perhaps a miracle will see us victorious.”

He smiled but the bitterness in it belied his words. Byleth wondered how such a man could be a devout believer and also a pragmatist. Though she held the power of a goddess bound within her, she found it difficult to believe in the possibility of divine intervention. Every step of her journey seemed to have been engineered, no matter how she tried to alter it. But it was not her own death she feared. She felt the weight of every sleeping and restless soul in the monastery.

Gently, she reached out and brushed the edge of her thumb against Seteth’s cheek, feeling the muscles jump and stutter under his surprise. But as she came to her senses and thought to apologize, he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes before he lifted a hand and covered hers. The air heavy and a fire starting low in her belly, Byleth slipped the papers in her hand back onto the bookshelf. She threaded her fingers into the hair at the nape of Seteth’s neck as she pressed her forehead against his. She heard him inhale sharply, and then press his free hand against the small of her back, drawing them together.

Byleth had rapidly surpassed her boundary of experience, so she said nothing. Instead she focused on the pressure of Seteth’s hand on her back, and the unsteady rhythm of his breathing. The metal of his circlet was warm against her skin. She gently stroked the back of his neck and he shivered under the touch.

“I must apologize,” He squeezed her hand, “normally I am in better control of myself.” He turned to press a small kiss into her palm.

“Do you want me to go?” Byleth asked, a strange feeling hooking itself underneath her ribs. She was afraid to move in case it pierced her heart. 

“It would be improper for me to ask you to stay. Although I have often found myself with too much time to occupy, it seems now I have too little to express myself properly.” He paused, arching suddenly with an inhale as her fingertips skimmed around the edges of his his high collar. She stilled her attention. 

“What is it that holds you back?” The question seemed to surprise him. He tensed, clenching his jaw. 

“Is it not enough to have the Imperial Army bearing down upon us?” Pulling back from her grasp she could see his face again, and felt a stab of guilt for the unhappiness she could see written upon it. “That the lives of my friends, my family, the very ground where the goddess was laid to rest are threatened by a heretic who lived among us for months-“ He broke off, his hand on her back balling into a fist before relaxing again.

“Of course,” Byleth murmured, and drew back. Seteth released his hand from her back and straightened. For a moment he looked like he might reach out again and then he was still, a frown carved into his face. “That’s all that matters now.” Brusquely she retrieved the papers from the shelf and left. 

In the morning she brought three clean copies to their morning briefing with the knight commanders, and greeted Seteth with her usual friendly nod. He wordlessly returned the gesture and slipped a cup of steaming tea into her hands. The meeting was shorter than normal, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. The Imperial Army would reach the monastery in two days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't promise this chapter, but here you go

“How are you feeling?”

Byleth looked up from the fire, blinking. Seteth stood on the other side of the hearth, and she turned to find that the rest of the war room was now empty. For a moment a fierce feeling of panic clenched in her gut and then she focused on the sound of the distant voices in the hall. Time had slipped again.

“Ask me again later?” The joke came out more cynical than she’d intended and not for the first time she despaired her inability to mimic Claude’s flippant tone.

“I suppose that is to be expected. I could leave you alone, if you wish,” Seteth’s voice was gentle.

“No,” Byleth said quickly. She forced her hands to relax, “No. I don’t want to be alone.”

For the first time since he’d pledged the full force of the Knights of Seiros to her - not to the Alliance, not to the war, not to finding Rhea - to _her_, she looked Seteth in the eye. He stood stiffly, hands clasped behind his back, looking exactly as he had when she’d seen him a day ago. Five years ago. The force which had so powerfully gripped her by the throat returned, but they were alone and she could not hide herself amidst strategic proceedings.

“No, of course not,” Seteth closed the few steps between them, and then stopped. Overwhelmed, she turned back to the flames and felt his hand on her arm. She felt a sudden irrational surge of anger followed quickly by a sense of guilt that only increased as she read the expression on his face. He let his hand fall back to his side, “I had thought it would be easier if some things were left unsaid.”

“Was it?” Byleth’s voice cracked.

“No,” The answer was sharp, regretful, “It was no easier.”

She wanted very painfully to hold him, but she stood on the edge of something new - hope built upon uncertainty. Sothis had transformed her. Garreg Mach had transformed her - so that she had gained an appreciation for all of the things that had never concerned her - among them a home and a group of people she loved so dearly that it sometimes hurt. With that had come the possibility of loss, and lost it she had. Only the will and power of a goddess had brought it back to her, and it was not quite the same. It would never be quite the same again.

“Why does it hurt?” Byleth asked, “To love things?”

“A difficult question,” Seteth’s jaw tightened for a moment, then he gave her a rueful smile, “It would take a wiser man than I to give you an answer.”

“Life was easier when I cared for very little,” She mused, and reached down to take his hand. He inhaled deeply as she held it between them, running her thumbs across his knuckles, over the faint scars just visible in the firelight, “I wouldn’t go back.”

“That is good,” Seteth murmured with his exhale, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. “I spent a long time searching for you and I do not want to lose you again.”

“When I saw the monastery empty, I thought-“ A lump in Byleth’s throat prevented her from continuing. She raised his hand, pressed a light kiss against it.

“I am here,” Seteth cupped her cheek with his free hand, “And I will go anywhere you ask of me, whatever comes.”

“Stay here,” Byleth commanded softly, pulling him close, holding his hand tightly to her chest.

“As you wish.”

Byleth had never really appreciated kissing in the halting experience of her affection. She preferred the tactile sensation of skin on skin, strong and dextrous hands tasked to gentle exploration. There was something quite overwhelming and vulnerable in the act, but when she kissed Seteth it was at the urging of her own desire. His response was almost chaste in its reserve, but he made a low noise when she bit his lip, running his fingers through her hair. The cut of his robes baffled her desire for touch, but when her nails scraped gently down through his scalp, her fingertips once again skimming just above his collar, Seteth shivered, exhaling sharply into her mouth before he pulled away.

“What?” She felt a low spark at the sight of open desire on his face. As she watched it disappeared under the strength of his effort, throat cleared, lips pressed together so tightly he almost frowned. There was, to her delight, nothing he could do about his eyes, except to look away from her to the expanse of the empty room.

“This is hardly the place-“ Seteth’s voice was low, stripped of its usual composure. He paused to take a breath before he faced her again, thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand, “It has been a long day,” He said finally, “I think we should both get some rest.” Byleth was not disposed to agree, but she rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh.

“When I wake up, will you be here?” She paused, feeling him wrap his arms around her, “Will you all still be here?” 

“You have my word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like writing golden deer! byleth. she's hopeful.

**Author's Note:**

> A scrap of a scene that no longer fits in a longer work, but that I'm fond of anyway. Cannot believe this game made me feel ways about an uptight old man.


End file.
